


Never Good Enough

by BloodyAbattoir



Series: Your Reality Is A Nightmare [32]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Mental Instability, Mild Blood, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26607802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyAbattoir/pseuds/BloodyAbattoir
Summary: No matter how hard you try, you're never good enough. You never have been. You never will be.
Series: Your Reality Is A Nightmare [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/139122
Kudos: 1





	Never Good Enough

Failure, that’s all you are. Anything you do is never good enough. Your degrees are not extensive enough, from a good enough school, your body is not visually pleasing enough, no matter how much you lose, it is not fast enough, not from the right places.

No matter how much you clean, how fastidiously, it is not enough. You are still a slob, your house is a pigsty even when your floors are clean enough to eat off. You are always slovenly, unattractive, no matter how much you spend on clothing, no matter how much makeup you wear, how much you fry and dye and curl your hair.

Cry your eyes out and sob til your lungs crawl out your throat, crocodile tears in their eyes. Realize you’re nothing at all, a vermin, a waste of space. You’ve been told this only a million times over.

Shove pills down your throat, tiny yellow and white bottles emptying down your gullet, choking on the chemical taste and sticky coating, gagging on the powdery bitterness that sticks to your tongue. Fall to your knees, strike your head on the way down. Stain your countertops and floors bright cherry red, all the time you spent scrubbing and cleaning wasted.

  
It doesn’t matter that you’re dirtying your floors once more, they were never that clean to begin with.

Convulse and thrash and foam at the mouth, a bloated fish out of water, you can’t even die with dignity. Your death is just like your life, pathetic and best, miserable and mediocre and sad and useless and worthless, nothing to be proud of, best not mentioned in polite company, a pox upon the Earth.


End file.
